Her Child
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Follows on from 2x08. With the coming arrival of the Turner's first baby, Sister Julienne wonders what she can do to help. With Turnadette and this rather wonderful Sister Julienne/Bernadette mother-daughter relationship.
1. Chapter 1

It was not often that Sister Julienne could be accused of a lack of professionalism. Usually it was her doing the accusing; not accusing, even, a gentle word, a soft reminder of how things should properly be done. In general she was soft, gentle, and thus it would be inaccurate to say that she had what might be called a soft spot for anyone in particular; kindness was simply in her nature and she bestowed it universally to all she met. But all of that, she realised now, was only true to an extent. As witnessed by the fact that she most certainly had a soft spot, and it had lead her into what might quite reasonably be called unprofessionalism.

The fact was that the Turners' baby would be due in two weeks. Of course, she had been following Mrs Turner's progress carefully all the while, reading her notes after every check up. On some level, she almost considered it her duty; never had she been able to relinquish the idea that she was responsible for Shelagh's welfare. Not that she did not trust Dr. Turner to be more than conscientious in the matter. Still, it kept her happy to know for certain that all was well. It was a responsibility that she did not want to let go of, and she reasoned that too much care was infinitely better than a lack of it.

She knew that Shelagh was very happy in her new life, and she thanked God for it. There would have been nothing worse than it turning out to have all been a mistake; that she could not have born. Then the pain of letting her go would have been worthless and wasteful, and all the more exacting. She had been like her daughter, for years she had been like her daughter, and it was almost a physical wrench to have to let her go. But it had been worthwhile, praise the Lord, she was convinced of it. Though this way, Sister Bernadette leaving Nonnatus House, had still been painful Sister Julienne was glad to think that perhaps she herself had born the chief burden of the pain; and it made it better to see how happy Shelagh and her husband were together, that they had a baby on the way was testament to that fact.

She remembered the day when Shelagh had come to her, and told her that there was a child on its way. She was the first to know, except Dr. Turner and Jenny, who had examined her and confirmed her suspicions. She had drawn the young woman to her chest and held her, just as she had on the day that she had left, but so very happily this time.

"You'll be a wonderful mother," she had murmured to her, "You already are," she added, referring to her care of Timothy, who naturally adored her.

"I learned it all from you," was the reply, barely audible, but firm.

And perhaps it was the memory of the feeling, of the tears in her eyes, at those words that had spurred her on to act as she had done- unprofessionally.

She wanted to be there, she wanted to be there when Shelagh's child was born. She wanted to help her through the pain, to hold her hand, calm her down, to be close at hand if anything, God forbid, went wrong. The thought of not being there was truly awful to her. To not be there, to not help her felt worse than abandonment. She needed to be there. As a nun she was supposed to love everyone equally, especially her Sisters. She was not supposed to love one any more than the others. But it was transparently obvious to her by now that she did, even though there was no way she could ever voice it; apart from anything else she doubted that she could find the words. So she could not speak her love, and this was her only way to show it.

She remembered the night when they had waited, terrified, for news of Chummy. She could hardly imagine how much her horror would have been intensified if it had been Shelagh instead whose life was in danger. She would not have been able to stand the wait, she would have been on her bicycle, to the hospital, waiting outside the operating theatre. The thought alone gave her a slight pain in her head. She thought of herself and Jenny, slipping quietly into the room the next morning; remembered the sight of mother and baby lying there together. The thought of Shelagh and her child...

So, double-checking in Shelagh's notes, she found her due date on the calender and checked who was set to be on duty. Sister Evangelina. For a moment, she hesitated, making up her mind.

Then, before she could lose her nerve, she picked up the pencil used to write in the duty log, scanned with the point for Sister Evangelina's name and quickly erased it from the correct date with the rubber, adding her own name instead.

She took a deep breath, taking in the letters. In her mild anxiety she had pressed hard with the pencil and the letters stood out bold. Seeing them, she closed the book with a firm and satisfied snap.

She took a step back and breathed another, deeper, breath. She was going to bee there. She would be.

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	2. Chapter 2

"Sister Julienne," Trixie's voice carried quite distinctly down the hall of Nonnatus House, but it was needed she was there already, she did not seem to be able to go very far from the telephone today, "It's time. Shelagh Turner's baby is on its way!"

She had been more than expecting it; it was bang on time, Shelagh had always been so wonderfully reliable and her baby had obviously inherited none of its father's tardiness. Still, though, the words brought her up short a little, and she felt her hand stray to the wall, in case she had to support herself.

"You get started, Nurse Franklin," she told her, "I will follow you in a moment."

Trixie nodded and went off, and Sister Julienne stopped still, closed her eyes; took one deep breath and then another. She needed to be very calm, now was not the time to be getting over-excited or nervous. This was just another baby, one of almost a thousand she would deliver this year alone, probably. This felt like the most important birth she had ever, would ever bear witness to. Either way, she should be, she had to be calm. Opening her eyes, she was shocked to find Sister Evangelina standing there watching her- she had thought she was alone.

They were both quiet for a moment.

"Are you sure you're it a fit state to deliver this baby?" Sister Evangelina asked her very calmly, in a surprisingly neutral tone.

"Of course I am," she replied, "I just needed a minute."

"Because you were on first call yesterday too," Sister Evangelina reminded her, "Somehow, you seem to have my first duty slot today too. I can go if you like."

"No," Sister Julienne told her, "I have to go."

"Off you go, then," Sister Evangelina prompted her, "Can't keep our old friend waiting."

"No," Sister Julienne agreed, straightening herself up and picking up her bag, "Thank you, Sister."

"You take care of her," Sister Evangelina told her, "And give her my best."

With that, she did not look back; striding through the corridor and out down the stairs, where she found Trixie getting onto her bicycle.

"Are you alright, Sister?" she asked her.

"Quite alright, thank you," she replied, getting out her own bicycle and mounting it swiftly, "Come on. We'd better get a move on."

She cycled faster than Trixie, though recently she'd been finding that it was just a little harder to keep pace with some of the younger nurses. She barely noticed. She barely noticed anything- even the traffic- until she reached Kennilworth Row. By this time, Trixie was a good half a street behind her.

Timothy Turner was waiting by the porch, looking anxiously out through the glass in the door and opened it as soon as he saw her.

"They're both upstairs, Sister," he told her, "Dad's making sure she's alright but they'll be glad you're here. Let me take your bike," he added, gently slipping his small hands on the handlebars and wheeling the bicycle- which was large compared to himself- to stand against the wall of the house.

"Thank you, Timothy," she told him, briefly wondering if his mother or father had told him to do that, "I'll go straight up. You stay downstairs."

"I expect your father will be joining you soon," Trixie added kindly to him, following Sister Julienne up the stairs, then quietly to Sister Julienne, "We can't let her give birth in front of her husband, even if he is a doctor."

"Nevertheless," Sister Julienne replied, "I am glad that he is already here, and nowhere else. Help will be close at hand."

Speaking the words out loud gave her some considerable comfort; perhaps Trixie sensed this because she did not contradict her. Moving up the stairs and around the landing of the Turner's house revealed that it was scrupulously clean as the report on the state of their living quarters for home delivery had suggested. The door of the master bedroom was open, and Sister Julienne came straight in, tapping once on the door.

She smiled, Shelagh looked perfectly happy, sitting up in bed, Dr. Turner sitting in a chair at her bedside, holding her hand. They both smiled in return at the sight of Trixie and Sister Julienne.

"Hello, Sister," he told her standing up, "I'm very glad you're here."

"So am I," she replied, "How are things progressing?"

"Quite smoothly," he told her, "Contractions started last night and are every few minutes now."

"Then I think it's probably time for you to absent yourself and put the hot water on," she told him.

"Very well," he replied, "I know she's in good hands."

She smiled at him, and he bent back down over the bed to say goodbye to his wife. Sister Julienne looked away, checking on Trixie setting up the equipment, in order to give them a moment of privacy. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him kiss her forehead, and her hold onto his hand, and heard, in hushed, intimate tones, "Goodbye, my darling. I love you."

Only once he left the room, did her eyes meet Shelagh's again. She saw her gaze follow him out of the door and linger for a moment on his retreating back. She knew that the young woman felt the lack of her husband very sharply in that moment, when she must have been very scared. It was her job to make sure she had nothing to be frightened of and, with every ounce of strength that the Lord gave her, she was going to do it. She knew know, she had just caught a glimpse, of how very much in love the Turners were with each other; and it touched and heartened her. This baby was going to be loved so very much, by all, but most especially by its parents. Happiness was so very close for all of them, there was little to be scared of. She crossed the room to sit beside her in the chair that Dr. Turner had vacated, taking her hand in both of hers.

"Hello, my dear," she told her softly, "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied, as always as good as unconcerned with her own suffering, "Baby seems quite eager all of a sudden."

She rested a hand fondly on her stomach as she spoke.

"Good girl," Sister Julienne told her, reaching out, brushing back a strand of hair that hand come loose and hung over her forehead, "Brave girl."

She felt Shelagh's hand tighten a little in hers.

"I feel braver now that you're here," she admitted.

"You have my strength to add to your own," Sister Julienne told her quietly, "You may have it all. My love is the only strength that I have to give."

Shelagh smiled at her, gratefully, opened her lips to reply, but at that moment was seized by a sharp pain as another contraction hit her, and she frowned in pain, her hand tightening much more strongly around Sister Julienne's.

…**...**

"What's your name?"

The question came as a real surprise to Sister Julienne.

"What?" she asked, startled.

Shelagh smiled, only just managing to tear her eyes away from the little bundle that lay in her tired but protective arms, held close to her body.

The baby was perfect, so perfect. Freshly wrapped in a blanket, Trixie had passed the bundle first to Sister Julienne who had just stared for a moment at the perfect little face before delivering it into Shelagh's waiting arms.

Shelagh smiled at her rather tiredly.

"My daughter needs a name," she told her, looking back down at the baby, "What's your real name?"

For a moment, Sister Julienne could not speak, could not even remember her own name, could form no words.

"Won't you want to talk about it with her father?" she managed finally.

"We've already talked about," Shelagh replied, "He agrees."

"Speaking of him, do you think he'd like to meet his little girl?" Trixie asked, standing back in the corner of the room.

"Would you take her to him?" Shelagh asked, "And then bring them both back. And Timothy too."

"Of course," Trixie told her, carefully taking the child out of her arms and heading towards the door.

"She's so beautiful," Sister Julienne whispered after a moment, "Too beautiful to take my name. You should call her Julienne."

Shelagh shook her head.

"If you had been my mother your name would not have been Julienne," she told her, "So I want your real name. Then there can be no more beautiful name for her. So what is it?" she pressed quietly but insistently.

Sister Julienne was looking at her hands; tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Ruth," she told her simply, "Ruth."

"Yes," Shelagh told her, another tired but ecstatically happy smile spreading over her face, "That is beautiful."

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	3. Chapter 3

There was a quiet tap on the door and then a voice.

"It's Timothy!" Timothy's voice came, sounding loud, clear and happy, " And Dad and the baby," he added, almost as an afterthought, "Can we come in?"

"Of course you can," Shelagh called back, and the door opened.

Timothy bounded into the room, shortly followed by his father and little sister. He went immediately to sit at the head of the bed beside Shelagh.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, frowning at her and regarding her with great concern.

"Of course I'm alright," she told him, pulling him gently into her arms and giving him a hug, "I know I probably sounded horrible but I was in very good hands."

Dr. Turner stayed standing at the foot of the bed, facing his wife directly but looking down at his daughter, apparently asleep in his arms. She was looking at her too.

"How is she?" she asked him.

"Absolutely perfect," he told her, looking up at her, giving her the most thorough and heart-warming smile Sister Julienne had ever seen. For a moment she almost started to cry again, but pulled herself together, as he said, "I think she wants her mother back, though."

"She seems more than happy with her father," Shelagh replied, "But give her here."

Carefully, a thousand times more carefully than she'd ever seen him handle a baby at clinic- and he was never careless with them- he carried her and placed her in Shelagh's outstretched arms. Sitting down on the other side of her, his arm slipping gently around her body to hold her, he turned his head to Sister Julienne, who sat near them in the chair.

"Sister, how can I ever thank you enough?" he asked her. All the while, she saw that though he gave her his full attention and spoke politely, his body still angled in towards his family in the most comfortable and instinctively protective way, and she stifled a smile.

"You know no thanks is necessary, Doctor," she told him. Then, quietly, her eyes meeting Shelagh's for a brief moment, "The honour you have already given me is more than thanks enough."

"You... you mean; she said yes?" he asked his wife.

Shelagh smiled up at him, nodding.

"To the first part," she told him.

"What is she called?" he asked, looking down at their daughter in his wife's arms.

"Ruth," she replied, happily.

"Ruth," he repeated.

"That's a good name," Timothy concluded soundly, bringing a smile to Sister Julienne's face.

"I'm glad you approve, Timothy," she told him by way of an explanation as to why she was smiling so broadly.

"It suits her," Dr. Turner mused, his eyes still fixed on his daughter's face, "She looks like a Ruth."

"She does," Shelagh agreed.

Sister Julienne looked down at her own knees, feeling almost like she was intruding on the family's private moment, but could not bring herself to move. She did not want to leave, nor did she think she could without alerting their attention. As it was, she thought that they were all too wrapped up in each other to notice her presence. But she was wrong.

Looking down as she was, she did not notice Shelagh's eyes lift from her child and fix upon her.

"Of course," she told her, "We want you to be godmother."

Sister Julienne looked up, struck dumb once more by the suddenness of this revelation. Her eyes moved from Shelagh to Dr. Turner and back again, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"It goes without saying," Dr. Turner told her, his voice and his face both kind and gentle and radiating happiness.

She could not quite believe the kindness of this family. Although she had always rather prided herself on her perceptions of and staunch convictions of human kindness; however, never before, or at least not since she had gone into the religious life, had it been so explicitly and personally pointed at her. For a moment she felt very very human indeed and absolutely humbled.

She could do nothing but nod silently.

"We know many very good people," Dr. Turner added, "But you were the only one we could choose."

She felt emotion in her throat, swelling, threatening to burst, she had to say something else.

"You will be very good parents," she told them both, "You already are, and Timothy, it goes without saying that you'll be the best big brother in the world. I wish you all the very best kind of happiness."

"Would you like to hold her for a little, Sister?" Shelagh asked her.

"If I may," she replied after a moment, "But, no, she ought to be with you."

"She has the rest of my life to be with me," Shelagh replied, "I will never not hold her. Please, I'd like you to take her."

Silently, Sister Julienne got up, holding out her arms and taking little Ruth, lowering herself back down into her chair so very gently, so as not to wake her up. She could feel all of the Turners watching them both, Shelagh hugging Timothy, and Dr. Turner with his arm securely, proudly, around Shelagh.

"Hello, Ruth," she whispered to the little sleeping form, "My name is Sister Julienne. I'm your godmother." She paused for a moment, taking a small breath. "I want you to know that we will all do everything we can to help you to be happy. Always. You are so loved, my little one. I want you to be able to have every blessing that I have had, and to avoid the mistakes that I made. My greatest mistake," she told the baby, told the room, told herself, out loud, for the first time, "Was not to speak the love that I feel. I found it so very difficult, because you should be loving to everyone to know when I really loved. Because of that I let someone, lots of people, but someone in particular, feel a lot more alone than they needed to when I think what they really needed was love, just love. I made myself feel a lot lonelier than I needed to too. But I'm going to put that to right now."

She looked up. Her eyes found Shelagh's, which were full of tears, streaming silently down her cheeks. On her face, though, was the most beautiful smile.

"I don't know why I just said all of that to a baby," Sister Julienne told her.

"It was perfect," Shelagh told her, "It was absolutely perfect."

**End.**

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